


All is well

by Aledhwen



Series: Regis' Wonderful Hugs [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Regret, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24336160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aledhwen/pseuds/Aledhwen
Summary: [Beware B&W Spoilers!]Geralt wakes up after their last drinking night with Regis. The vampire is gone, and slowly, Geralt comes to realize that he cannot cope with his departure. He decides to run after him, desperate to find him.
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: Regis' Wonderful Hugs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766671
Comments: 14
Kudos: 135





	1. From darkness...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmeliaXOXO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaXOXO/gifts), [squiddtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiddtastic/gifts).



> [Beware B&W Spoilers!] 
> 
> Set at the end of the Blood and Wine expansion, after the "happy ending".
> 
> This is a short one-shot, that was inspired to me by @Squiddtastic and their fantastic writing. I have just recently finished the Blood and Wine expansion, and fell utterly in love with Regis. I was so sad he got banished from Toussaint, and struggled with the devouring envy of writing some fluffy hugs between him and Geralt. I read a lot of fanfics, including Squiddtastic's excellent ones, and when I heard this song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xk6cy2AAvxY, it triggered something within me, and I wrote this.
> 
> I have not written for a very, very long time, so I hope it's not too obvious. Most of all, if you don't like overspilling fluff and particularly long and emotional hugs, don't read this :)
> 
> I deeply hope this fic will warm your heart as much as it warmed mine while writing it.
> 
> Dedicated to Squiddtastic for inspiring my way back to writing, and to Amelia for her seven years of unreserved support, love and inspiration.

When Geralt woke up after sleeping a couple of hours, the Mère-Lachaiselongue cemetery was peaceful, with the birds chirping in the pink and gold rays of the rising sun. The white wolf groaned, and turned around slowly, craning his neck in all directions. 

"Regis?" he called.

There was no answer, and Geralt felt a tight pang in his chest. He stood up and gathered his swords, before walking straight to the entrance of Regis' crypt. 

"Regis?" he called again, while going down the stairs, into the dark, damp atmosphere of the tomb. 

The vampire still didn't answer. The crypt looked almost the same though. The tomb of Arkadius Borovvik was still gently lit by the candles, next to which stood a couple of bookshelfs, and a wooden high chair.

Geralt called out his friend's name again. Something deep inside his chest was rising. A bubbling emotion that he did not want to face.

He got up the stone stairs to the vampire's lab, and his eyes widened very slightly, realizing that a lot of Regis' stuff was missing. His skeleton for study, his scrolls, and most of his books. 

Geralt's dread was confirmed. Regis had gone for good.

Trying to push down the burning, nasty feeling of emptiness that kept rising through him, Geralt wandered aimlessly through the remains of Regis' lab, not really knowing what he was looking for. He absent-mindedly played with the globe standing in a corner, caressed the cobblestone walls, extinguished some candles and re-lit them with Igni...

Soon, he arrived by Regis' bed, settled down on a rough stone. Geralt's heightened senses could still smell the vampire's herbal scent lingering on the sheets, and it painfully made his absence even more tangible. 

Geralt's eyes fell upon a worn-looking book next to the bed.

"My last thought before succumbing to sleep", Geralt read out loud, opening the book to the first page. 

Leafing through the small book, he realized it might be some sort of diary. He almost closed it, not wanting to pry into his friends' private life, when he saw the last entry.

"I have a feeling my friend Dettlaff will die. I am sad." 

The pang constricting Geralt's heart tightened at these words. Feeling something in him was about to break, he closed the diary and put it back where he had found it, as though it would be enough to pretend he had not read that last sentence. Turning on his heels, he flew down the stone stairs, dashed before Arkadius Borovvik's sarcophagus, and fled more than left the crypt, returning to the light of day. 

As he ran in the forest surrounding the peaceful cemetery, he whistled Roach, who arrived joyfully and stopped beside him, giving him a friendly nudge with her head. Geralt patted her and hid his face in her mane for a few seconds.

_Regis..._

The vampire would not leave his thoughts. He had to leave this forsaken place.

"Let's go home, Roach" he said while mounting the mare, his heart in his throat.

He rode fast, trying to push down the sea of regrets that threatened to drown his heart. Soon, he arrived at Corvo Bianco, and got down from Roach, who trotted to her stables. Geralt greeted the peasants absent-mindedly, and went straight for the mansion. 

"Good morning sir, I trust the celebration went well?" Barnabas Basil said when he entered.

Marlene and him were apparently doing a bit of dusting. Marlene raised motherly eyes to Geralt.

"I'm sure you were magnificient, my dear witcher. I'm so proud of you!" she said tenderly.

Geralt grimaced and loudly cleared his throat. As fond as he was of both of them, he knew that now was absolutely not the time to talk.

"Yeah, 't was a real treat. Need to have some rest though. Talk t'you later." Geralt answered quickly, without looking at them.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he distinctly saw them exchange a puzzled look, yet he did not give them enough time to enquire about his well being. He dashed into his room and closed the door. When he turned towards the bed, his heart stopped. There, on the nightstand, was a letter, with a small object. Geralt sat on the bed, and stared at the letter. After a long, silent moment, he gently took it, almost against his will, and unfolded it.

_Dear Geralt,_

_If you are reading these words, it means I am already far beyond the borders of Toussaint and you have found my Mutagenerator. (Of course, you may dub this instrument however you like, perhaps something more fitting to your taste or better reflecting its function, for I have no doubt your knowledge on the subject of mutagens is far more profound and thorough than mine!)  
I have been working on this device in my spare time, but now it is finished and I am convinced – as convinced as an inventor can be before his invention has been used as intended – of the usefulness of this apparatus._

_You are surely wondering what function it is meant to serve. As the name indicates, the Mutagenerator generates mutagens. It operates by absorbing electromagical energy waves from bodies (in this case, the bodies of the monsters and evil-doers you kill) – and when it has absorbed enough so as to be charged a critical amount, the Mutagenerator changes the stored energy into a Greater Mutagen – which, I suspect, you will make good use of._

_As you surely understand, I am an amateur engineer, which is why you must forgive the lack of an ability for you to direct this operation. Which mutagen emerges as a result is determined at random, meaning chance will decide if it is a Green, Red or Blue Mutagen. Chance – yet I have noted the colors tend to alternate, by and large._

_I trust you shall find my gift useful._

_Your dearly devoted friend,_

_Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy_

_P.S. You might be wondering why I decided to toss the Mutagenerator into your home instead of simply handing it to you in person. Well, you must know I did it out of modesty. Believe it or not.  
Take care, Geralt – and may my gift serve you well._

Geralt gulped. He turned towards the object on the night stand. It looked like a small rectangular box, and it fit in the palm of his hand. He forced himself to smile, but the pain in his chest was still there, and increasing. 

Trying to put his turmoil on the account of exhaustion, Geralt took off his armor and boots, and put himself to bed, not realizing that he was still clutching Regis' letter to his bare chest. He closed his eyes, and tried to find sleep. 

However, his heart seemed to be pulsating painfully, as though poison was coursing and burning through his veins. Soon, in his mind, he replayed the last moments he had spent with Regis.

_"What about you? Any idea where you'll go?" Geralt asked._

_"Distance is of the essence. I thought I might venture south."_

_"Nilfgaard?"_

_"Why ever not? The Niflgaardians are a modern society. None there believe in vampires anymore. This fact alone could be very useful to someone wishing to remain...incognito."_

Geralt turned, and turned over again in his bed. After one hour, he realized he couldn't find peace. Sitting up on his bed, he grabbed a linen shirt from his stash, put on his boots, and headed towards the door. He got out in the hot sun, and started strolling down towards the gardens. 

Everything was well.

He had a vineyard, in the most beautiful place in the world, and he was certain Yennefer, Ciri, Triss or even Dandelion would come visit him soon, and possibly settle down with him. 

People, at last, loved him and greeted him enthusiastically in the streets, calling him a hero, a knight in shining armour.

He had reunited two heartbroken sisters, and they would now live happily ever after.

_And yet..._

Regis had chosen to kill Dettlaff, because he knew very well that regenerating him would not solve his hunger for revenge. Eventually, the massacre of Beauclair would happen again. Geralt knew Regis too well to believe he could actually have decided otherwise. The vampire, unlike the majority of his kin, valued human life far too greatly for that.

Geralt fidgeted with the beautiful blossoms of arenarias bordering the path, lost in the dear memories of his vampiric friend.

_Yeah...After all it's better for him. Said it himself: Toussaint is like a strong wine. Good in small sips._

A red-haired peasant greeted him while bending to nurture the soil for a new plantation of wolfsbane. Geralt gave her a sad smile and greeted her back, before going back to the thoughts storming around in his head. 

_Anyway, what kind of life was that for Regis, having to live in a dark, damp crypt, just to get some peace? No...He'll find a better life for him in Nilfgaard. Start a new life. Work as a kind of alchemist, advisor or surgeon, most like. Won't be bothered by his bloodsucker kin._

Another, soft and eloquent voice, rose in his mind, and echoed within the depths of his heart.

_No need to trouble yourself Geralt. All is well. All is in order._

That was what Regis would say. He was certain of it.

_Yes. All is well._

_All is in order._

_All is well..._

Without warning, the dam broke, and hot tears came to Geralt's eyes. He clutched Regis' letter, which he still had not let go. He felt his heart abruptly shatter to pieces as though hit by a Grapeshot bomb and a sob escaped his lips, which he immediately muffled in his hand.

His face contorted in a mask of pain, and he felt he was losing all control. Ashamed of crying before his workers, Geralt ran back through the courtyard, to the mansion and into his bedroom. There, he collapsed more than sat on his bed, clutching the paper in one hand, burying his face in the other. 

He couldn't understand what was happening to him. Witchers were not supposed to have such strong fits of raw emotion. Still, the sorrow was making him rock back and forth, like when he had found Ciri's apparently lifeless body and held it to him, months ago. He felt the same waves of devastating sorrow crashing against the walls of his heart. 

Why such pain? When he had everything he had ever wanted, at last?

Regis' soft smile came to his mind, and Geralt could almost smell his herbal scent, see his high cheekbones and his grey sideburns. His soft, deep voice would not leave his mind.

_All is well. All is in order._

"Been living without the bastard for years, damn it. Thought he was dead. Took time to get over it, yes, but why cry over him now of all times?" Geralt admonished himself.

The answer came easily in his mind. They had been so close during the last months, closer than ever, actually. With all the action and worry, Geralt had not paused to think what it truly meant to him that Regis was back. They had been given a second chance, and this stressed out the weight Regis' death had had on Geralt's subconscious mind. He had never really forgiven himself for his friend's death, especially when Regis had perished trying to save him. During the last months, Geralt had got used again to Regis' comforting, calm presence. He had relished their long discussions by the fire, passing a bottle of Mandrake brew between them. Regis had the power of putting his mind at ease, of making him forget the horrors of his life for just a moment. His wisdom and his deep understanding of things often made Geralt ponder on many aspects of his own life. It allowed him to take a step back, and reflect calmly on things beyond him.

Slowly, Geralt began to grasp how much their friendship had grown within that time, and his heart ached with longing.

Yet there was something else.

Something else that upset Geralt immensely.

Suddenly, it appeared clearly in his mind.

_Regis is sad._

This last thought, bringing back the vampire's worn-out diary to Geralt's mind, was the last straw. 

_I have a feeling my friend Dettlaff will die. I am sad._

"It's unfair...It's so damn unfair..." Geralt whispered through his tears.

It seemed obvious, all of a sudden. At last, he could put words on what his heart had been trying to tell him since he woke up. He could not stand the idea of Regis spending long years mourning Dettlaff alone. And he could definitely not accept the fact that he might never see the vampire again, while imagining him drowning in a sea of sadness and solitude.

Geralt instantly knew what to do. It was the only, acceptable thing he could possibly do.

The witcher didn't even think. He sniffed loudly, wiped his tears with his hands, and got up. He grabbed his swords, tucked the mutagenerator and the letter in his pocket and dashed out of his room. Marlene and Barnabas were still in the hall, talking quietly behind his door, obviously wondering what was wrong with him. When they saw his red eyes, they looked downright panicked.

"What is happening, witcher?" Marlene asked, her eyes huge with concern.

Geralt grabbed her shoulders firmly but gently.

"Can't explain right now. Need to do something. Might not be back for a while, but it's important. Please, take care of Corvo Bianco in my absence. Friends of mine will certainly come for me, have them settle down here for as long as they want. I promise I will be back."

Marlene pressed her hands on her heart.

"Be careful, Geralt, dear..." she whispered.

Geralt had a gentle smile and he laid a small, comforting kiss on the old woman's forehead. Then he turned to Barnabas Basil, and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. The majordomo lowered his head in acknowledgement, but Geralt could see worry on his face.

The witcher then turned around and dashed outside, heading towards the stables. 

"Come on Roach, we have a long journey ahead of us" he told the mare, jumping on her back.

His heart full of hope, his white mane flying in the wind, he rode through the gates of Corvo Bianco, and headed south, in the direction of Nilfgaard.

After an entire day of galloping through the roads and forests, Geralt had left the borders of Toussaint. The lands started turning greyer, darker than the beautiful realm of Ana Henrietta, and Geralt could occasionally hear rotfiends and ghouls roaming in deserted villages. He would not stop however. His mind was obsessed with one, specific goal. 

He had to find Regis.

He had to, or he honestly didn't know what he would do. He would probably spend the rest of his life searching for the vampire.

However the farther he got from Toussaint, the heavier his heart became. 

Regis was nowhere to be seen.

Geralt started calling his friend's name, stopping here and there to search for him through the small forests bordering the road. 

Regis was not there.

When dusk arrived, Geralt was so exhausted and so desperate he could barely think. Wandering through a peaceful forest, he almost fell down from Roach trying to dismount. Once he had reached the ground, he spinned around, and screamed on top of his lungs:

"Regis!" 

He could feel sobs crawling in his throat, and a hand of ice clasping around his supposedly hardened heart. 

"DAMN YOU, REGIS!" Geralt yelled, his voice breaking.

He shook his head, and pulled on his hair.

"Damn you..."

How could he be so naive? Regis was a vampire, for Gods' sake, he would very unlikely travel on foot, especially if he was hunted down by all the vampires of Toussaint!

Feeling the weight of his swords cutting in his linen shirt Geralt threw them rageously down on the ground.

Regis was certainly so far away now. For all Geralt knew, he never truly intended to go south. Maybe he'd just said so precisely to stop Geralt from tracking him. 

After all, Geralt was a witcher, and Regis a vampire... 

He fell on his knees, feeling like he was going to die from sorrow and fatigue.

_Fuck...What have I done...Why have I let him go?_

He got Regis' letter out of his pocket, and painfully re-read his words again. As he traced the ink with his finger, a bitter tear fell down on the yellow piece of parchment.

_Never...I will never see him again._

"Farewell, Regis..." he said, his throat constricting painfully.

In the silence of the forest, in the quiet that comes right before the world goes to sleep, another, much darker night was slowly spreading over Geralt's heart. As heavy tears poured down on his cheeks, gliding over his many scars, the witcher realized something, which made his heart succumb to earnest despair.

_I never said goodbye._


	2. ...to light

Amidst the scent of his own tears, a strongly herbal smell wafted to Geralt's nostrils.

"It looks like we keep bumping into one another, my friend", a familiar, elegant voice said.

Geralt started and immediately got up, spinning around so fast he almost fell over.

He could not believe it. 

Regis was there, right behind him, leaning on the bark of a tree, clasping his satchel with both of his hands. The light of the dying sun was casting fantastic, fiery highlights in his grey hair. He was looking at Geralt with a soft expression, his smile carrying just a hint of tender reproach.

In Geralt's eyes, he suddenly appeared more handsome than ever.

"My ravens informed me that you were heartedly hollering my name around, as if trying your earnest to waken the dead. Really Geralt, don't you think..."

When Regis saw Geralt's face, however, his soft smile immediately died on his lips and his expression turned into one of utter concern.

"Geralt, did something happen? Are you well?" he asked, coming closer.

Geralt wiped his tears with his hands and looked down to his feet stubbornly, suddenly feeling very stupid.

"I'm fine. Just tired that's all", he grunted, trying to hide his face from Regis by turning away from him. 

"You...Where is your armour? Regis asked incredulously, seeing that nothing was attached to Roach's saddle, is your desire to be gutted by my kin so strong that you would run after me clad like a ...a common peasant?!" 

"I..." Geralt started.

"Geralt, what in all worlds were you thinking? I..." Regis started, at loss for words. He stopped however, seeing that Geralt was obviously not in his normal state. He came closer and took Geralt by his shoulders to turn his friend towards him, trying to read his face.

"Geralt, my friend, you are truly starting to worry me, immensely. Please, talk to me."

Geralt suddenly looked up, and gave Regis an intense look, his yellow eyes suddenly feral.

"Can't let you leave alone."

Regis' dark eyes were as round as the moon slowly rising above them, and he stared at Geralt as though the witcher had turned into a silver basilisk.

"Was the Alrauna Diavolis brew too strong last night? Geralt, I cannot even begin to fathom..."

Regis was cut short as Geralt launched himself at him and buried his white-haired head into the vampire's left pectoral, in the hollow of his shoulder. Hiding his face as close as he could to his friend's heart, he wrapped his arms around him and clutched his leather tunic as though it was the only thing in the world that tied him to life.

For a moment, Regis did absolutely nothing. He was so astonished that he stood frozen like a statue. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms tightly around the witcher, resting his chin on his head.

"Geralt...Oh, dear Geralt, what in the world is happening to you? " he whispered.

The white wolf could not say a word. All his concentration was focused on stopping himself from crying. But it was taking up the little energy he had left, and soon, he could not hold his tears.

"Let me come with you, Regis." he growled.

"Tsk-tsk...That would be incredibly unwise, my friend..." the higher vampire said, rocking them slowly from left to right.

"I don't care. I...I can't stand the idea of never seeing you again and...and of you being alone with..."

Geralt could not finish his sentence. He broke down into Regis' chest and started crying earnestly, shaking with silent but powerful sobs.

Regis' face changed from surprise to sadness. He closed his eyes, coiled a hand in Geralt's white hair, pushing the witcher's face deeper in his chest, cradling him close to his heart. His other hand rubbed soothing circles in Geralt's shirt, and he rocked them even more tenderly, in a calming motion.

"There, there, my dear friend...Shhhh..." he soothed very gently.

They stayed like this for long minutes, Regis patiently stroking Geralt's hair and holding him in his protective embrace. Geralt was still clinging for dear life, his hands turning to fists, hiding in the higher vampire's shoulder, trying to breathe in his herbal scent, feeling Regis' chin as well as his hand in his hair.

"Oh Geralt, what ever did bring this ridiculous idea in that white head of yours?" Regis whispered.

The vampire tried to pull away.

"No! No, don't go away ..." Geralt cried out in a hoarse whisper, his voice muffled in Regis'chest.

His knees buckled under him from exhaustion and sorrow, and Regis brought them both down to the ground, Geralt still curled up to his chest, his arms locked around the vampire.

"Shh-shh-shh...I'm here, Geralt, Regis soothed, as though talking to a young child. I'm here, I've got you."

Soon, Geralt was lying down, only supported by Regis' arms which held him tightly against his chest. The vampire had kneeled down, and started rocking them back and forth, both of his arms wrapped tightly around Geralt, his hands clutching his linen shirt. After a short time, he brought his hand back up to Geralt's hair and stroked it tenderly.

"Shhh, easy now. Easy, my friend. I'm right here." Regis whispered in Geralt's hair, trying to calm him.

"I can't, Regis...I...I just don't have the strength of losing you once more. Seen you die once already. That one time was enough. " Geralt growled, his voice still muffled, clenching his teeth, furious at himself for showing himself in such a vulnerable state.

"Who ever said you were going to lose me?" Regis asked in a gentle voice, still rocking them as though comforting a child. 

"Quit fucking around Regis, Geralt grunted angrily, I know you too well. You intend to hide in some kind of hole for two hundred years, and you were not planning on sending me any raven of whatever to lead me to you, because you are too fucking self-sacrificing to take the risk of putting me or anyone else in danger."

Regis sighed deeply, and rested his cheek on Geralt's head.

"That is indeed what I should do, beyond any doubt..."

He kept stroking Geralt's hair with one hand, Geralt's back with the other.

"However I am not sure I can bear the idea of never seeing you again either."

Geralt slowly pulled away from his friend and raised his watery eyes to him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked in a rough voice, wiping his tears away with one hand, but still clutching Regis tunic with the other.

Regis had a sad smile.

"I am used to solitude, to waiting, but losing Dettlaff is such a tough ordeal that it will be much harder for me to heal on my own. Plus, I...well, to put it quite simply, I have always been quite fond of you my friend, and..."

Regis sighed and grabbed Geralt's head in his hands to bring their foreheads together. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then guided Geralt's face back to his chest.

"Come back here..." he whispered.

Once more, he hid Geralt's face in his chest, and held him so tight Geralt felt his bones, as strong as they were, almost crack. 

"I have been thinking, while traveling...The bitterness of it all..."

Regis sighed.

"Geralt, imagine the least comfortable situation you could be in. What would it be? I don't mean a moment of pain, with death knocking at your door, just a circumstance of great unease." 

Geralt grunted.

"Very well. Now imagine that you are stuck there. Not for an hour, not for an evening. But for all time.

Geralt tightened his hold on Regis.

"This is the way I usually feel, in this world. However, when I am with you... " 

Regis trailed off and gently grabbed Geralt's shoulders to hold him at arm's length so he could look at him.

"...well, my burden becomes much easier to bear..." he finished in a breath.

Fresh tears spilled from Geralt's eyes, and Regis smiled tenderly, wiping them away with his thumb.

"What I am trying to tell you, Geralt, is that however far, however long I would go, I would always be drawn back to you. Of that I am certain."

Geralt took Regis' face in his hands.

"None of us can predict the future, Regis. I can't leave you not knowing if I will see you in a year or five, or ten" he said in a husky voice.

"Well regarding the circumstances, I do have to lay low for at least a couple of years, Geralt."

"I can't leave you to carry the burden of Dettlaff's death alone... I'm as much to blame for what happened as you..."

"I had to kill Dettlaff. It was my decision, remember? Regis cut in firmly, you tried to stop me, and I insisted. Geralt, even though Dettlaff was my blood brethren, he had turned into a true monster. He was already dead to me when he unleashed his army on Beauclair and claimed..."

"I love you." Geralt interrupted him.

The words had come out on their own, and only then did Geralt realize how much he cared for Regis. Only then did he realize how far their relationship had evolved, beyond the realms of friendship.

The vampire stopped dead in his lecture. He looked almost hilarious, his mouth half open revealing his fangs, his dark eyes aghast.

"What did you say?" he whispered. 

"I fucking love you. And...Regis, honestly, I don't give a rat's ass that you don't love me back. Just wanna be by your side. Wanna smell that damn herb scent of yours even when it's making my eyes sting. Wanna drink your poisonous Mandrake root brews and listen to you talking about whatever startling taste it has even though I've no idea what you're talking about. I want you to bore me around with your philosophical lectures, I want..."

Geralt had to stop talking, as suddenly Regis had grabbed his hair and crushed their mouths together. When he released him, he whispered against his lips:

"Who ever said I did not love you back? "

When he pulled away, it was Geralt's turn to look like an idiot. Regis chuckled.

"Ah, my dear Geralt, your expression is utterly hilarious, and that is a scandalous understatement." 

Geralt was staring at him. He was examining the vampires' features. His dark, gentle eyes, his grey and soft sideburns, his receding hairline, his high cheekbones, his thin mouth... 

_Gods, he's beautiful._

The witcher lunged at Regis again and tackled him to the ground, kissing him furiously, pressing his pelvis against the vampire's. Regis answered by wrapping his arms around the witcher and crushing him to his chest, digging his claws into his back. Geralt dove his hands in Regis' hair, cupped his face in his hands, caressing his sideburns, and melted into his mouth, groaning with satisfaction. They kissed for a long time, and when they parted, Regis sat up and buried Geralt's face in his neck, sealing him in another tight embrace. 

"I love you too, Geralt. I have been for... Well for ages, as a matter of fact... "He sighed.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Geralt asked, nestled against him.

"You must be jesting, my friend. A higher vampire, confessing his love for a witcher? Would you only have believed me? "

"But we've been so close, especially these last few months. Y'know you can tell me anything right?"

"I suppose but...Ah, Regis sighed, bygones, Geralt. Let us not dwell on the past. Love is a very complex, transcendental thing. It is true for humans, but even more for us vampires. Even if I did not "love" you the way you humans understand it, my affection for you has long evolved far beyond mere friendship, at least in human terms that is. That is why, in all circumstances, I could not stay forever out of your life.

He sighed, and in the silence, Geralt tried to wrap his head around these words.

"Not sure I understood what you just said." He confessed.

Regis had a soft chuckle.

"I am fully aware of that, my dear friend. That is why I shall have to take some time, one day, to get you through the fundamentals of vampiric love and friendship, which truly have little to do with human concepts, I daresay."

Geralt almost rolled his eyes in Regis' arms, but deep in his heart, he was already in a hurry to listen to his friend talk eloquently for hours about philosophical and metaphysical concepts far beyond Geralt's grasp. 

"Anyway, as I said, it will have to wait. We now have to decide whatever we shall do..."

Geralt disengaged from Regis' arms and gave him his most murderous glare.

"I'll tell you _whatever we shall do_ , Geralt mimicked Regis' elegant accent. I'm coming with you and that's that."

"But Geralt, what about your retirement?" 

"I'm a witcher. I'm supposed to stay on the Path." 

"I do not want you to perpetually risk your hide for me." 

"Damn it, Regis. Again, I'm a witcher, risking my hide is what I do for a living. I can take care of myself, thank you. "

Regis seemed desperate. 

"And what about your vineyard?"

"I'll visit them from time to time. I left instructions."

"Did you now? Regis asked sarcastically, forgive me but I find that rather hard to believe. Judging by the way you are dressed, you left without a moment of thought."

"So what? I'll obviously have to go back and get some stuff. But not until we have found where you wanna stay. Then I'll come live with you, and visit Corvo Bianco once or twice a month. Who knows, maybe in a couple of years we might go back there together." Geralt said firmly.

Regis sighed deeply.

"You are certainly not making this easy for me."

"Not an ounce of refinement in me, remember?" Geralt said, smiling slightly, quoting Regis. 

Regis chuckled softly and wrapped both his arms around Geralt's head, bringing him back to his chest.

"Indeed you have not. And yet I find this spectacularly endearing." He said, laying a deep kiss in the white mane.

He sighed and held Geralt tight to him, resuming his rocking motion. 

"All right, I suppose you win. We shall leave together." Regis said. 

Geralt let out a deep sigh muffled in Regis chest, and the vampire could feel all the tension leaving his body, making the witcher litterally sag completely against him. 

"But first, you must sleep, my dear. You look and sound utterly exhausted." Regis whispered.

"Won't leave without me uh?" Geralt groaned, already half-asleep in Regis' tender embrace, soothed by his voice and his comforting aura.

"I vow, Geralt, that I shall not go anywhere without you. Hush now...Sleep. I've got you. I'm here." 

Regis kissed his hair once more. Then he cranked his neck to look behind him. There was a tall tree a couple of feet away. Still clutching Geralt to him, Regis moved back a bit to rest his back against the bark of the tree. Then he turned his attention back to Geralt. He closed his eyes and focused on pouring all the love he could in his embrace.

"There. I am not letting you go. Sleep peacefully, my dear Geralt. I will still be holding you when you awaken. I promise."

"Mmmm...Keep'n eye'n Roach..."

"Shh, not to worry. Roach is right over there. I will watch over her, and on your swords, as well."

Regis dove his hand in Geralt's hair, and pressed the witcher's face further in his chest.

"All is well. All is in order." He whispered.

On these soft words, while Regis was holding his witcher firmly but tenderly pressed against his heart, Geralt finally fell into a deep, well deserved, and immensely peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this story :) I'll certainly write more stories with Regis hugging people in the future, so...to be followed :)


End file.
